Introduction to Alphabet Soup
by L56895
Summary: Ficlets inspired by a random word for each letter of the alphabet. All Jeff/Annie related!
1. Appreciate

I posted this story originally over on AO3: It's my first story for Community and my first attempt in a long time to write in present tense. Thought I'd give it a go!

* * *

The first time he stays with her in DC she can't apologise enough for the state of her apartment; the dryers don't work so her laundry is hanging from every available edge and surface; the aircon broke the week after she moved in and her landlord is in Mexico for the summer. As a result every inch of her new home is stifling and he regrets the shirt that he changed in to after he landed. She is fidgety and fussy and he swears that the temperature in the room creeps up with every fluffed pillow and nervous question about his flight.

Eventually, he stands in front of her and holds her hands steady, pulling her flush against him.

"Annie, stop worrying," he half scolds, but his smile breaks through, "What's really going on?"

"I just wanted everything to be perfect," she says finally, "This was supposed to be the start of something for me and it's all going wrong!" She throws her hands up in the air and his grip falls to her elbows. She doesn't step back though, so he rubs her bare arms and kisses her on the forehead.

"So what if the internship isn't everything you expected. That's one of the perks of being young- you get to live and learn-"

"No, no, the internship's great. It's just…" she sighs and bites her lip, "I wanted _this_ to be perfect. You being here. And then everything started breaking and everything's a mess. You were supposed to see me thriving here, not falling apart like a little kid."

For a moment he studies her carefully; the way her brow furrows in thought; her hair pulled back from the nape of her neck; the mismatched top and shorts that she clearly pulled off the line at random. She's perfectly unpoised, and he loves her a little more for it.

"You know… I spent three hours shopping yesterday to find the perfect cool shirt to change in to once I landed today." She raises an eyebrow at him and he laughs quietly. "I had this great idea that I'd turn up and we'd go to drinks with your cool new FBI friends and none of them would notice that I'm seventeen years older than you and fast approaching the end of my prime just as you reach yours. As if a shirt could fix all the insecurities that I have about us."

He kisses her lips once, gently, before he pulls back to look at her. She's staring at him with those doe eyes that melt him and he leans back in, capturing her lips again and cupping a hand against the back of her neck.

"So I guess we've both got a few things to work out?" she whispers finally as they break apart. He laughs in to her hair, presses their foreheads together and sighs.

"What say we forget about all that, just for a little while," he kisses her gently between words, "And just sit around in our underwear until morning. This heat is _ridiculous._ "


	2. Bribe

It didn't take much to convince Britta to end the sublet a week early. Just a promise that she owned his soul for the next semester. And a chunk of the rent. She took slightly more convincing to help him go to the hardware store and pick out a shade of neutral that was _just right._ And she refused point blank to help him put up bookcases strong enough to carry an armful of forensics textbooks. She claimed it was too hot for manual labour, but he saw the twinge of jealousy that flashed behind her smile and he resolved to not rub his giddiness in her face.

The girl in the student bookshop had taken even less convincing to put aside copies of every crime novel and criminology textbook that came her way. He brought them over in a laundry bag and spent an hour trying to decide whether Annie would organise them by theme, size or colour. In the end he piled them haphazardly on to the shelves in the name of his sanity and decided that he'd think about it later. Instead, he scoped his own apartment with an Annie-gaze and found it falling depressingly short.

"So, tell me again why you're redecorating her bedroom _and_ buying all this Annie-fied crap for your own apartment?" Britta teased when he dragged her around a homeware store and loaded their cart with throw pillows, sheer curtains and blankets. "Why not ask her to move in with you and save yourself the effort?"

"We're not even together, Britta."

"Yet."

He frowned and threw a candlestick roughly on top of the mound of fabric. Britta scowled at him.

"Why are you mad? It's pretty obvious what's going to happen when she comes back, we all saw the way you two were the week before she left for DC. You guys talk every day, how has this not come up?"

He stopped the cart and leant on the handlebars. It took five paces before Britta noticed he was no longer behind her and she swung her arms out in her usual dramatic fashion. It'd been too many years for him to be bothered by her fake outrage, so he chose to ignore it.

"We agreed that we'd talk about _us_ when she got back," he said finally, "She's off on this brand new adventure in the world. I couldn't be the guy that's holding her back back home. What if she met someone else out there and missed her shot because she's too busy being held to a promise she made to some washed up community college teacher in some shitty town."

"Jeff," Britta said his name with a pitying look he recognised from her early therapy major days, "For someone with an ego as big as yours you sure are insecure when it comes to matters of the heart."

"Is that an official diagnosis?" he laughed, but the gesture wore thin.

"I'm serious! How do you go from thinking you're god's gift to campus to doubting your worth the second those blue eyes are in the vicinity? And how do the rest of that have that effect on that big old head of yours?"

Jeff glared at her and she leant gently on the opposite end of the cart so he couldn't gaze.

"Okay, let me ask a different question then. Why go to all this effort for a girl you might not even have a future with? Pretend I don't know you and Annie, explain to me what this is all about."

"i just wanted her coming home to mean something. She's leaving this amazing internship and coming back… back to _Greendale_. The least I could do- as her friend- is to make home feel more special than it is."

Britta's eyes widened in surprise. Whatever she had thought, that clearly wasn't it.

"Jeff Winger, that is incredibly sweet- and I am not at all jealous." He rolled his eyes. "Despite all my previous misgivings you might _actually_ end up being decent enough boyfriend material for her." She picked up one of the soft throw pillows he had haphazardly tossed in to the cart and turned it over thoughtfully.

"Dare I ask what you're thinking now?"

She shrugged.

"Annie's pretty special to bring out your romantic side, huh?"

She turned around and carried on walking before she could see the heat rising in his cheeks.


	3. Catalyst

When he looks back it's hard to know when his feelings for her changed. When she went from his cutesy young friend to everything he ever wanted.

He knows that even casual onlookers have seen this coming a mile off; seen the ridiculous excuses they come up with to spend time together and the opportunities he jumps at to touch her in even the most infinitesimal ways. Abed tells him he knows the exact moment, but for the sake of the romantic narrative he chooses not to share it.

There were those kisses, for one thing. The debate team finale that ignited feelings he'd never even let himself consider before. Or their moment at the end of first year; when he'd kissed her until his lips were sore and let himself relish the feel of her, small but determined in his arms.

If he had to pick one moment himself, just one second where he first realised that he was teetering on the edge of something more than just slightly creepy lust, it would be the night she came over to find him drunk and cycling through his collection of sad childhood memorabilia. He let her wipe away the tears on his cheeks with the pads of her thumbs, make him soup and wrap them both in a blanket on his sofa. If it was anyone else they might have laughed at him, fully grown and still clinging to mementos of a father he claimed meant nothing to him. Annie just let him be with his grief.

She came back the next night with an arm full of craft supplies; he stared at her in horror as she unloaded sequins, ribbon and construction paper on to his coffee table.

"Annie, what the hell is this?"

"Crafting is cathartic," she said simply, as if that explained everything, "We're going to make a scrapbook!"

"A what now?"

"A scrapbook. We're going to put all of these things together in a nice book so you don't have to keep being ashamed of them."

He was still dubious when he sat down on the floor next to her, slumped over the coffee table and sorted through the page options.

"If I do this will you promise to never mention it to the others?"

She looked at him as if he were stating the obvious and his stomach at flipped at those doe eyes of hers; the look of concentration on her face as she carefully pasted his most guarded memories in to something beautiful.

And so now, when he's still reeling that she's agreed to move in with him, he finds himself enthusiastically agreeing with the minute changes she makes to his apartment. The photo collages that hang up next to the art he purchased at Target; the home-made cookies that sit on a plate in his previously carb-free fridge; the ridiculous throw pillows showing off her brief foray in to cross stitch.

He loves her a little more for every time she takes a piece of his life and turns it in to something, in her very Annie way, infinitely beautiful.


	4. Drunkard

His phone calls while she's away worry her. He's distant and distracted and on the few times they video chat he is unshaven and unkempt. He says he's fine, brushes off her concerns, but she can't help the niggling doubt that something is not okay with him. He misses her, that much he admits, but she can't tease out any more specifics from him.

Instead she calls Britta, who pauses for a suspiciously long time before claiming that everything's fine, he's just working hard on his syllabus next term. He wants her to be proud. It's been nine weeks without her so he's just missing her.

By week ten she's accrued enough overtime credits to take an extended weekend and as she waves goodbye to her temporary office she wonders if it could have ever felt like home. Or rather, if anywhere other than Greendale could possibly the place she belongs. She doesn't tell any of her friends that she's coming home early, except Frankie, who pulls in to the airport pickup lane and flashes her a scarily bright grin.

"Alright, what's going on?" she's too tired to be eased in to whatever drama has been brewing while she's been away and Frankie's smile falters. "Something's up with Jeff, isn't it?"

"Things have… spiralled... a little in the past few weeks," Frankie's usually stoic voice is laced with concern, "The drinking got a little worse… and then a lot worse. Britta keeps an eye on him while he's in the bar but he's not exactly willing to open up to any of us."

It's almost too much- this idea that everything can fall apart when she's not around and for a brief moment she regrets coming home so soon, not allowing herself a few more days of freedom. But she's not even fooling herself and she knows that she could never keep away.

* * *

Frankie promises to take her cases back to the apartment but drops her off the other wide of town. She might not have a key to his place but she knows his security codes and there's no chance he can turn her away if she just knocks on his door.

He's clearly not expecting company when he wrenches the door open, scotch in hand, and her heart breaks for him when she sees the anguish that flashes across his face at the sight of her. She's pretty sure he hasn't had a decent night sleep in days; there's a grey tint to his usually flawless skin and his eyes are bloodshot and heavy.

"You're back," he whispers quietly, like she's a ghost he's afraid of spooking. She shrugs, even though she wants to wrap her arms around him.

"I got off early and couldn't wait to get home," she tries to keep her tone light but she can see in his face that it's not landing, that he's about to shut down and leave her grasping at nothing. "I missed you."

Then, his expression cracks and he lets out a sob as he pulls her to him. She's still in her comfy clothes and shoes from the plane so he dwarfs her as usual and for a moment she lets herself enjoy the feeling of being protected in his arms.

"I really missed you," she whispers against his chest and sighs when he drops a heavy kiss on the top of her head.

"I've…" his voice is hoarse, "I've not been okay without you."

There's more, and if she's patient she knows he'll open up. She squeezes him and moves to pull away but he holds her firm against him.

"My Mom died."

And like that it's like the rug has been swept out from underneath them. She pulls him towards the couch and he curls up against her like an injured child. She's too shocked to speak, too shocked to do anything other than run her fingers through his hair as he presses his damp face in to her lap. There's an almost empty bottle of scotch on the table, more on the kitchen counter, and she can smell it on him. It's seeping through his pores and it makes her want to weep.

"Why didn't you tell-" she begins, but she knows the answer. She would have got on the first flight back from DC- to hell with the internship- the second she found out. He lived with all that pain in the name of letting her go. She's usually the first person he talks to, other than his therapist, and she doesn't know how to move on from letting him down when she never even realised she was needed.

His sobs come out in harsh gasps and he clings to the fabric of her skirt so tight that his knuckles are white. He can barely fit on the sofa, his limbs contorted against the armrest, but he doesn't seem to care or even notice. When she shifts in her seat he moans and wraps an arm around her back to keep her close.

Just as she garners the courage to coax his feelings out of him she realises he's fallen asleep, his head in her lap and face pressed in to her midriff. She runs her fingertips along his jaw, feels the soft bristles of his beard, and wishes that she could ease away the pain that's fixed itself on his face.


	5. Envy

They'd hugged goodbye an hour ago- looked back over the study room like the end of the era it was. He'd walked Annie to her car and hesitated before kissing her gently on the cheek to the sounds of the collective sighs of their group. He wonders how they would have responded to the chaste kiss he'd given her before they arrived; whether they would have been able to tell how much it broke him to say goodbye.

One kiss, their first in years, and as he throws his keys in to the small brass bowl on his side table when he enters his apartment he tries to tell himself that that one kiss is enough. That she isn't everything that he's ever wanted, despite all evidence to the contrary. Despite what he told her when she found him standing in that room and gave him the opening he'd been waiting for for years.

He'll never be able to let her go.

Now, he stands at the edge of his apartment wondering how he can possibly move forward without his Annie. Because she's always been his, he's just been too self absorbed to see it.

His feelings are all messed up; he wants her to _go_ , see the world and be a part of something bigger than Greendale; he wants her to stay with him, make his tiny world a little bigger and brighter; but most of all he wants to be someone leaving Colorado for the first time. He's a bad person, he knows, for wanting the opportunities he's too lazy to go for when the people he loves have fought tooth and nail to get them.

He's never fought for anything in his life.

When he grab his keys and marches to the door he's resolved to tell her everything; that he loves her and he'll wait for her. Follow her if that's what she wants. But when he opens the door he flounders, heart pounding, at the sight of her standing there. Her fist is raised as if to knock and then that hand is in his hair as he lurches forward to kiss her like he wanted to earlier- hard, open-mouthed with his palms splayed out against her back.

"Were you going somewhere?" she breathes against his lips when he pulls back for air. Her tone is nervous, as if his thumbs aren't brushing against the underside of her bra and his knee isn't planted between her legs, and he presses his cheek against her hair.

"Wherever you are," he murmurs, pulling her flush against him and wonders whether she can feel his heart trying to burst from his chest.


	6. Flaunt

Britta plans Annie's welcome home party. It's predictably a disaster; she forgets to invite the Dean, who arrives in all-black with a wail after a group message inadvertently includes him; no one defrosts the desserts, so they end up chipping away at cake with a fondue fork; and the pizza delivery man is predictably creepy and hangs around long after they've emptied their pockets for enough change.

Annie beams through the whole thing, watching them with the wide eyes he's dreamt of for weeks.

Frankie had insisted on picking her up from the airport, reasoning that it was on her way and there was no reason for Jeff to make an hour round trip. He bit his tongue at the time, unable to think of a believable excuse that didn't scream that he was hopelessly in love with his best friend. Robbed of the airport reunion that he'd been longing for, he broods gently on the sofa until the others arrive at apartment 303.

At the party he watches her carefully, waiting for the tell-tale sign that she's as desperate to be alone as he is. He ogles her from across the room, pathetically preoccupied with watching those big blue eyes for any sign that she's been clinging to their goodbye kiss as much as he has.

Every so often she meets his eye and blushes, and when he fetches himself a drink she runs her fingertips through his and squeezes gently. His breath catches whenever she touches him, until he's practically vibrating with the need of her and has to plant himself in the corner with a double scotch.

"You've been quiet," she says softly as she falls down on the couch next to him. She has a flower garland hanging from her neck- another ridiculous party addition on Britta's part- and without thinking he toys with it as he swivels in his seat to face her. Her eyelids are heavy, her cheeks flushed and when she leans back against the backrest he recognises the look in her eyes; it's the same look she gave him when he kissed her all those weeks ago and his stomach does a little flip.

"I've just-" he pauses, unable to come up with a convincing lie, "I can't wait to be alone with you."

Her brow furrows, and for the briefest of seconds he's thinks he's misread everything; all their late night phone calls, texts that skirt the line of friendship and leave him worked up in bed, the kisses she blows on the rare occasion that they get to video chat. But then her lip curls up in a smirk and she leans forward and kisses the edge of his mouth gently.

"We're alone now," she says softly.

"But… you know not really, right?" He jerks his head towards the kitchen, where Britta is serving cocktails to a dishevelled Dean while Frankie picks the toppings off the remainder of their pizza. "Not the kind of alone that I want to be."

She shifts in her seat, tucks one leg under her and regards him thoughtfully.

"And what would you want to do if we were alone?" she says, her tone innocent even as she leans in closer. For a moment every fantasy he's had over the past ten weeks flashes through his mind, before he settles on the one that surprised him the most while she was away.

"I'd want to lie here and listen to you talk about your internship." His fingertips flutter against her thigh.

"You already know everything, Jeff, we texted every day," her voice is teasing, but uncertain.

"Yeah but now I get to watch you as you talk about it," he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "I love watching you when you're excited about something, Annie. And of all the things I've missed this summer… that's the thing I've missed the most. I want to kiss you, I want to sleep with you… but really I just want to be around you. I've missed you so much."

They move closer as he speaks, hands inching up bare skin, until he hooks a hand under her knee and pulls her legs in to his lap. It doesn't matter that their friends are close by, that he feels their stares burning his cheeks, when he gets to listen to his Annie talk excitedly about case files and coffee pots and monuments. She gesticulates wildly and every so often he captures her hand to press his lips to her knuckles, pulls her in for a kiss and lies back against the sofa cushions to watch her with dreamy eyes.

Neither of them notice when the front door closes gently behind the last of the guests and Britta sneaks back in to her room.


	7. Goner

She insists that ten weeks isn't that long, not really. They have FaceTime and Skype and instant messenger. He's always on his phone anyways, so what difference does it make? Besides, they've spent summers apart before.

Jeff's not so convinced. Never has he bore his heart to someone so openly, and now he doesn't know what to do. They have a week together, which doesn't seem long enough, and he's determined to not rush her in to anything. They kiss and talk and curl up on his sofa until she falls asleep against his chest and he's left wondering how he ever lived without this. His understanding of what it means to be intimate with someone- previously confined to a falling in bed with someone for a second time- has been shaken with every second he's allowed to stroke her bare arms and watch her sleep in his embrace. He's not sure how to cope with ten weeks without her- and not even a mental picture of her naked to keep him going.

But the first time she flashes up on his screen- make-up-less and dishevelled in her pyjamas- he knows that every second he gets with her is enough to get him through to the next. That he'll drink her in like water in the desert.


	8. Hyperbole

In the interest of narrative symmetry, Abed moves his flight up to the same day as Annie's. He reasons that airport goodbyes are easily overdone and he doesn't want his to be seen as cliché by the audience. Jeff doesn't argue, except slightly bitterly in his own head, even though he had hoped for a private goodbye with Annie when he drops her off.

Their apartment is nearly packed away- Abed's belongings ready for shipment and Annie's ready for storage- when he announces that he needs a new suitcase for the occasion. Jeff takes him, at the behest of Annie's pleading eyes, even though he knows that it'll wipe out a full day of his brooding countdown.

If shopping with Abed on a normal day is tedious, this is downright painful. He paces the aisle seven times before staring at the shelving in silence. Jeff leans on the handlebars of the cart, eyes locked on his phone and guarding the collection of supplies they've already picked up.

"You know Jeff, you don't need to worry." Abed's walking down the holiday aisle slowly, his constant chatter melting in to the background noise of the store. His tone is typically upbeat but forthright and Jeff grunts occasionally in response, not raising his eyes from his phone screen."I mean it. I've run the simulations on you two and I can only see one outcome."

Something in his voice makes Jeff look up, only to find Abed's face full of uncharacteristic openness. He swallows.

"Abed, what are you talking about?"

"Think about it; Season One Jeff falls for Annie but thinks she's too young, ends up chasing the more socially acceptable option of Britta without actually ever falling for her. By season three little Annie has grown up enough to become the dangerous possible option again, disrupting a delicate balance. People start picking up on it, not to mention in all the other timelines where you guys end up together. That kind of will-they-won't-they love story is sure to hook an audience. Even Evil Jeff can't stay awa-"

"Abed!" Jeff's patience for Abed's theatrics is wearing thin, "What are you actually trying, in your weird Abed way, to tell me?"

"You love her enough to power up a computer, that's got to count for something, right?"

"How could you possibly know that?"

"I didn't. But it makes the most sense. If it had been Britta you wouldn't have called off the wedding- or maybe you would have, it's you, but you never wanted to marry her in the first place that was obvious even to me. If it had been our group as a whole you would have made a big speech afterwards. I took a wild guess that it wasn't the Dean or I. So it must have been Annie. But that was pretty evident even beforehand. I've known it for a while, should I have told you?"

Jeff stares at him for a long moment.

"Did you not know?"

"Of course I know, Abed, I just-"

"Then why not tell her? There's got to be a timeline where you tell her you love her, why not make it this one?"

Not the for first time, Jeff finds himself wishing that Abed's view of the world was one he could live in.


	9. Indecisive

"I need to find a new place to live now that I'm back for good," Annie says decisively, flapping the rental section of his paper in his face. It's too early for her get go attitude and he groans and flops back against the pillow. He risks taking the mug of coffee that she placed down on his nightstand earlier- a morning Annie is a fidgety one- and carefully raises it to his lips.

"What's wrong with your apartment?" he asks groggily, raising an eyebrow at her over his coffee. She's sat crossed-legged at the end of his bed, the shirt she borrowed to sleep in swamping her as she hunches forward over the paper. He's getting used to this Annie- barefaced, comfy and slouched- that he's managed to tease out over the past few weeks since she came home from DC. She's like his bed-headed little secret when she's poised and holding his hand on campus.

"It's fine." She flashes him a grin, but it's thin. "It's just… I want an adult place, you know? And it's not the same without Troy and Abed. Britta's not my ideal roommate with all her late nights and parties. Especially now I'm splitting part time work and study. I need somewhere that I can see a future, somewhere that's not my college place… somewhere I can-"

"Spend more than a year?"

"Yeah." She blushes and shuffles closer to him on the bed, scoots round so that she's leaning against his chest and he can prop his chin on her hair. "Help me choose?"

He stares at a a page covered in red writing; her neat script highlighting pros and cons of neighbourhoods, storeys and amenities. She rambles in his arms, explains her thoughts on every single option until he can't tell a sublet from a laundry room and every magnolia wall has blurred in to one. Even her excitable voice is soothing to his sleepy soul and he lets his eyes drift close and rests his cheek on the top of her head. Any interest he has in apartment hunting is dampened by the feel of her thigh pressed against his, her bare calf tucked between his knees.

"Why don't you just move in here?" he muses quietly.

"What?" She whips round to look at him. Her shock is disarming and his blinks at her for a moment, his heart racing.

"What?"

"Did you just ask me to move in with you?"

He fights every instinct in him to make his excuses, ignore that he's in his own home, and leave. She laughs at the panicked expression on his face and stretches up to kiss the edge of his mouth. At the touch of her lips he's jolted back down to earth and turns to kiss her properly. When she sinks in to him he sighs and pulls back enough to meet her eye.

"You should live here," he says softly, reaching up to stroke her face, "Come play house with me, Annie."

Then she's on him again, peppering his face with kisses as she straddles his lap. He cups her hips in his palms, pulls her close and lets himself enjoy her affections for a moment before she pulls back and frowns.

"This isn't one of those times when you're panicking and making big life decisions without thinking that you're going to regret in a few hours, is it?"

"I can promise you, without any shadow of a doubt, that I will never regret waking up to you every morning," he says firmly as he leans back in to kiss her. He surprises even himself to realise that it's true; this is what he wants. "I love you. Move in with me."

Her enthusiastic nods and choked laugh melt something that he didn't realise had hardened inside of him. Now, he feels an unfamiliar tingle of potential rush all over him as his fantasies seem ever closer to being reality.


	10. Journal

"Did I ever tell you that I started a journal because of you?"

She looks up at him from her desk, where she's been trawling through case files, and raises an eyebrow. He's sprawled on his usual spot along the sofa, phone in hand, and he places it down on his chest before propping his hands behind his head.

"Seriously?" her tone is more pleased than he expected as she hops off of the chair and he sighs when she lies down next to him, her chin resting on his shoulder.

For a moment he's too engulfed in the feeling of having her curled up with him to think of much else. By habit, he hooks a hand under her knee and pulls her across him so that she's splayed out across his chest and he can slip his free hand up her skirt. She makes little protest, but when he opens his eyes she's gazing back at him expectantly.

"Remember that time Troy and Abed had their weird pillow fort war?" She shudders, her role in the battle clearly not forgotten. "You were so mad at me and I hated it… so I figured I'd give the whole journal thing a try if it made you happier."

"Jeff, that was like three years ago. Do you seriously still have one?"

"I don't write in it every day. Just… when there's something on my mind… or I want to hold on to a memory a little bit more." He toys absently with the fabric of her shirt, stretches his palms around her waist and considers how this is exactly the kind of memory he wants to preserve forever. Pinching his chin gently, Annie pulls his gaze back to her.

"And do I ever get a mention?"

For a moment he considers making a joke and changing the subject, flashing her his best smile and leading her to their bedroom. But maybe, he thinks, he's involved beyond the need to hide his feelings and he kisses the tip of her nose.

"Pretty much every page."


	11. Luxation

She doesn't come home.

Jeff takes the news as he always does; with a sarcastic comment and a shrug of his shoulders. Their conversation is brief after her announcement, her tearful face filling up his screen. When she hangs up, he lets himself cry too.

The semester starts and leaves him on the periphery of the group, bereft without his Annie in the seat next to him. Frankie fills the gap of hyper-organisation, but he can't bear to dwell too long on the empty chairs around the table.

The scotch in his cabinet only dulls the pain in his gut.


	12. Myopic

Her flight landed ten minutes ago.

Jeff stretches up on his toes, even though he's already head and shoulders above the rest of the crowd. He's fixating on the people filing out of the arrivals lounge because if he doesn't then he has to think of what his hands are doing, a dilemma he's never really considered before this moment. Stuffed in to his pockets seems too aloof; if he looks at his phone then he'll risk missing her when she turns the corner. Other people have banners, should he have made a banner?

No, she'd be put off by his poor craftsmanship. Maybe he should have brought along the whole group- as per Frankie's suggestion- but that would have delayed his resolve to kiss her. And he wants to kiss her so badly.

He knows he's panicking, so he hops from foot to foot, stretches out his fingers and clenches his fist over and over again until his heart rate slows down and he can think clearly. Their texts over the past few weeks have grown intimate- his therapist would congratulate him if she could see the way he's opened up to her while they've been apart- but the insecure part of him that's convinced that he's misread the whole situation is vying against his ego. That part has been throwing him the late-night curveball of imagining her stepping off the plane hand in hand with some young FBI intern who just _has_ to see the quaint sights of Greendale. The logical part of him has him re-reading her texts when he gets up in the morning- flushing because there's no way to misinterpret _those words_ and the things they talk about when they're curled up in their respective beds- but the stakes are too high now for him to let his guard down fully.

Fifteen minutes. More and more people are rounding the corner, luggage in tow, and he holds his breath as he waits.

Then she's there, waving at him with her free hand as she tugs a massive suitcase behind her. He pushes through the small crowd to get to her quicker, not caring how desperate it makes him seem. When she flings herself in to his arms, he lifts her up and spins her as their lips meet. Any worries he had about their time apart- and there have been many that kept him up at night- are gone when she opens her mouth to him.

"I've missed you," he breathes against her lips, letting her drop back down to the floor. With her comfy flat shoes she's tiny in his arms and he has to arch down to keep his lips on hers; not that he has any choice when she grips him around the neck and pulls him down to meet her. He's vaguely aware that they're making a scene and for once he doesn't care how he looks to everyone around him. Annie's back.

The journey back to her apartment has him grinning the entire time. She talks animatedly about her time away, waving her hands about in a way he finds dangerously distracting until he pulls her close and kisses the top of her head when they stop at a red light. Traffic turns their forty five minute journey in to a two hour one and she curls up in the passenger seat and drifts off during a particularly slow stretch. He watches her when he gets the chance; let's himself get all googly eyed at the way her lips are slightly parted as she sleeps. She fits in to the curve of the seat in a way that makes him feel a little weak in his stomach, although he doesn't care to contemplate why, and he has a sudden image of lifting her out of his armchair late at night and carrying her to bed. It's not the first time he's found himself deep in daydreams of domestic life with her, and it won't be the last, but he still feels the little jolt of longing that comes along whenever Annie is involved.

Eventually, she sighs and stretches out in the seat next to him. Unfurling like a cat after a long snooze- even though she's been asleep for a mere half an hour- she blinks at him with sleepy eyes.

"Nearly home," he says softly, giving her knee a squeeze. She frowns.

"This isn't the way to your apartment," she murmurs, confused, "Won't we have more time alone there?"

It doesn't take much for him to swing his Lexus round at the right turn and head back in the direction of his apartment, just her eyebrow raised suggestively and a hand slipped up his thigh. He can feel the blood pumping in his ears, head spinning as if he's on his third scotch and he keeps his eyes trained on the road until they're safely parked outside his building.

He's never noticed how slow the elevator is.

Finally, they arrive at his apartment and she's on him the second the door is closed. As hungry as he is, she's ravenous, and she practically slams herself in to his chest when she kisses him- throwing them both off balance. Their kisses are broken by gasps of laughter and his breathy admissions that he's missed her more than he ever let on before.

"I know," she replies, biting at his lip.

"Don't do an Abed and start quoting things," he half admonishes, but his tone is light and right now he would hang on her every word.

He's managed to slip his hands under her shirt, fingertips brushing against the smooth skin around her waist, when there's a bang on the door. Dropping his head down, he growls gently in to the crook of her neck.

"Jeffrey! Are you home? I saw your car outside!"

When Jeff pulls back Annie's expression is wide eyed.

"Is that the Dean?" she mouths in shock and he pulls her to his chest, shuts his eyes and wills the knocking to stop. He feels her shaking with laughter in his arms and shushes gently in to her hair.

"If we ignore him he'll go away," he whispers conspiratorially, "Just. Don't. Move."

"I know you're in there Jeffrey, I have wine!"

"Damn it," he says, more forcefully this time. Reluctantly, he releases her and strides to the front door, pulling it open without ceremony. In the hallway, the Dean has arranged his limbs in an uncomfortable- and Jeff can only assume it's meant to be attractive- pose but starts when he spots Annie sat casually on the edge of the couch.

"Oh, Miss Edison! What a surprise! I didn't realise you were back from DC already," the Dean trills pleasantly, his eyes dropping to the suitcase by the front door, "Did you just get in? Why are you here…"

He trails off, looking between them as they glance awkwardly at one another. For a moment his expression is shocked, but he rallies and throws his hands up in the air.

"Well! I guess there's enough wine for the three of us! I'll fetch us some glasses!"

Jeff glares at him and clears his throat.

"Everything alright Jeffrey? You're not coming down with anything are you? Do you need me to check your temperature?" he lowers his voice to a conspiratorial growl, a hand on Jeff's chest. But Jeff pulls back and takes his place next to Annie, arm brushing hers.

"I'm fine, Dean. Annie and I were just hoping for a quiet night in. You know, to catch up?" He gives him what he hopes is a pointed look and the Dean's face fills with sudden understanding.

"Of course, how silly of me. Annie, we are all ears. I want to hear all about your internship!"

With a sigh, Jeff pushes himself up to his full height and grips the Dean by the shoulders, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Craig, it has been ten weeks of foreplay via text and waiting for this very moment. Now, I'm going to take Annie in to my bedroom and we are going to have sex whether you are still here or not. Understand?"

"Oh, Jeffrey that's quite the offer but I'm not sure how comfortable I am watching the two of you-"

"Craig! Go. Home."

When the Dean scurried out of his apartment, the door slamming shut behind him, Jeff feels her arms come around his waist and her cheek pressed against his back.

"So… what was that about taking me in to your bedroom?"

She squeals when he spins round, picks her up and backs her towards his bedroom door.


	13. Nylon

"Are we really ready for this?"

She says nothing but swings their linked hands playfully as they saunter down the street together. He's rambling and she's largely ignoring him, but every so often she gives his hand a gentle squeeze and bumps in to his arm. He's parked his Lexus some way back down the street, reasoning that the walk will clear his head. It doesn't work and he can't stop babbling.

"I mean, this feels like a big step, doesn't it?"

Annie stops and pulls him round to face him, her expression coy. For a moment Jeff considers turning and fleeing back down the street they've just walked but then something in her quiet smirk grounds him and he leans forward to press a chaste kiss on her lips.

"I love you, you know that, right?" he says softly, hands reaching up to tangle in the fabric of her shirt where it puckers at her waist..

"I know, and it's cute that you're panicking about this. I didn't think it was that big a deal."

"It's your _dad_ , Annie, this is _more_ than a big deal. This is huge. What if he hates me?" He knows his voice is pleading and whiny, but her calm refusal to accept that anything could go wrong is grating on him. He wants her to be nervous, because a neurotic Annie is one he can comfort. Her confidence leaves all the worst-case-scenarios to him.

"Jeff, when have you _ever_ been worried about someone not liking you?"

He slips his hands away from her waist and up to her shoulders, holds her in the way that always _always_ makes her lean in to kiss him. Then her smile falters.

"When I'm about to meet the father of my girlfriend, who just happens to only be five years older than me, that's when. If I were him, _I'd_ hate me." He's pretty sure he hears an elderly woman scoff at him as he walks past but he holds Annie's shoulders firm.

"My dad just wants me to be happy. _You_ make me happy. He's not going to ignore that."

"But the whole thing feels really weird. He barely speaks to you for six years and then suddenly the moment you change your Facebook status it's all happy families? Doesn't that feel… _fake_ to you?"

Now it's her turn to frown and he quickly regrets the pout that appears on her lips. He's being an ass, he knows, but he's also sweating and nervous and feels clammier than he ever has done before. Around them, the bustle of people keeps going and there's the occasional bump of shopping bags against him as people barge past. A public meeting had been partly her idea- although Jeff got the distinct impression that her mother had vetoed them coming to the house based on the heated phone call he'd overheard the night before- and it was only the improbability of a scene in front of strangers that had him agreeing in the first place. Now, he searches for any sign of worry in her face and finds it, buried deep but still there, as she pleads at him with her big blue eyes.

"Maybe," she says finally and shrugs, defeated, "But it's all I've got."

They walk a little way in silence, towards the coffee shop he knows that they've agreed to meet her father in, and he snakes an arm around her shoulders.

"I love you," he murmurs in to her hair, "And I want you to have the world. Let's do this."

She doesn't have time to reply before Jeff notices a man heading towards them through the crowd. He's short- even taking in to account Jeff's height advantage- but his eyes are a familiar blue and his purposeful strides mark him out as Annie's dad. That and the gentle squeak Annie lets out as she pulls from Jeff's embrace and runs towards him.

Introductions are polite- "Call me Robert"- but he avoids Jeff's eye when they sit down and the conversation is dominated by Annie; excited updates about the part time job opportunity that came off the back of her internship and questions about family members that Jeff has never heard of. He fetches their coffees, lets their conversation wash over him and waits for the moment where things will just _click._

The unsure feeling in the pit of his stomach hasn't gone away until he realises what's bothering him and Jeff stares at her father, bewildered.

His shirt is creased in a way that screams fresh-out-of-the-packet; a shiny blue nylon number that was clearly pulled off of the shelf last minute. Even so, there's a dark patch under his arms despite the cool air and a sort of pasty look to his face that was so far from Annie's fresh demeanour that Jeff can't place them in the same family. But then his eyes are drawn down to the bag at his feet, where the sleeve of a sweater is poking out. It's beige, puckered along the edge and distinctly unfashionable; something that a man would wear to a comfortable catch up with his daughter. Instead he's in this ill-fitting monstrosity and Jeff can could imagine him finding something in a panicked last minute dash to the store; deciding that expecting to be accepted as he is is just too much of a risk. It's sad, but the gesture is familiar to him. He's looking at a man who loves her as much as he does and who, like him, isn't sure he deserves the love he gets back.

He leans forward on the table, flashes what he hopes is his friendliest smile, and throws the man a bone.

"Robert, I'm really glad we're finally meeting, your daughter is the best thing that has ever happened to me."

When he glances down at her her eyes are shining.


	14. Outwitting

She's humming again.

Britta thinks back to the Guide to Living With Annie talk Abed gave her when she first moved in: a productive Annie is a happy Annie; a stressed Annie needs a full coffee pot at all times; a humming Annie is an in love Annie.

There's a flash somewhere behind Britta's eyes and she grins wildly.

They've started having breakfast at the weekend in their apartments, an idea Annie came up with when she got back from D.C. None of them had protested too much, figuring that she'll do most of the actual work, and sure enough when everyone arrived at Jeff's the weekend before Annie was already there taking egg orders and buttering slices of toast at his breakfast bar while a slightly shell-shocked looking Jeff tried to open an old jar of jelly.

Now, she waits until everyone is settled at the breakfast bar- coffee poured- before grinning across at Annie and waving a spoon teasingly.

"I've figured out your secret," she says slyly, tapping Annie's nose with a single finger. When she looks up Jeff's eyebrow is raised and Frankie has placed her toast carefully back on to her plate.

"What are you talking about, Britta?" Annie's voice is nervous, which only strengthens Britta's resolve. Their friendship has been different lately, since Annie returned from DC, but she knows that showing how supportive they are will open her up.

"Annie's got a secret DC boyfriend!' She announces triumphantly. Jeff's face falls- figures, he's always had a weird thing about Annie with guys- but the rest of the group are a hive of activity.

"No way!"

"Where did you meet him?"

"Do you have photos? Is he coming to Greendale?"

Only Jeff remains silent, watching the group with careful eyes. Britta regrets the collateral damage, he's clearly hurt by the revelation, but he can't go on pining forever and this will be good for him in the long run.

"Guys! There is no secret! We just haven't got around to telling everyone yet." Annie throws her hands up in the air, mouth set in a determined line that was distinctly Annie, and looks despairingly at them. She opens her mouth to say something else but Frankie puts up a hand, silencing her.

"What did you mean by 'we'?" she says carefully.

Annie says nothing, but Britta turns in time to see the exact moment that Jeff's face breaks in to a grin.


	15. Pledge

"I'm not sure I can do this."

This is becoming more and more frequent; him finding her teary eyed and crossed legged on their bed when he comes home from his late night classes. He's picked up a couple of night school classes now that they're saving up, although more and more he's padding out the overtime she can no longer manage.

Without a word, he crawls on to the bed next to her and kisses her gently; smooths a hand over the bump that's becoming more and more obvious underneath her shirt. He can tell from her dishevelled hair that she hasn't been to work today and it hurts a little that she didn't call him earlier in the day. She's missed seven out of the last thirty work days- he knows because in typical Annie fashion she keeps careful records in a diary of anything pregnancy related and he reads it religiously- and she's lost a little of the vibrancy that usually permeates her.

"I know how hard it's been, Annie," he cups her cheek, "Maybe we should go back to the doctor? See if there's anything he can do to make you more comfortable?"

She shakes her head forcefully.

"No, you don't understand," she sniffs, looks up at him with big sad eyes, "It's not just the feeling nauseous. I missed work again today. And they're being really supportive but Jerry got a promotion and we started the same week and I just know that if things were different then it could have been me."

She takes a deep breath and looks down in to her lap where a handful of tissues are scrunched up. Jeff sits back, stretches one leg out and props his arm on his knee, and watches her with soft eyes. Eventually, she wipes her face with the back of her hand and meets his eyes.

"I'm sorry. It's just hard thinking of the things that I'm giving up. Maternity leave is one thing but I never stopped to think about what happens next. All the opportunities I'm going to have to watch other people get when I deserve them too. I know this is what we both want… but I don't know if I can handle putting my life on hold for the next few years."

She shifts before he can say anything and lays down on the bed, legs tucked up and arm curled around her belly. He mimics her position; props his head up on his arm and faces her. Even with her messed up hair and the dark circles that are becoming more prominent under her eyes- neither one of them is sleeping well at the moment- he wants her more than he's ever wanted anything. Against all expectations she's turned him in to a better person than he ever thought he could be; the fact that he's feeling the way he does right now, loving a person he hasn't even met yet, is testament to that.

For a moment he thinks she might have fallen asleep, but he reaches out to touch her cheek.

"Annie, I've got a proposition for you…"

Her eyelids flutter open.

"Really, Jeff? The last proposition is what got me in to this state." She points at her stomach but there's a glint in her eye that wasn't there before.

"Hear me out," he speaks quickly, nervously, and reaches in to his back pocket to pull out the colour-coded chart that he's been working on during office hours, "What if you didn't have to give up anything at all?"

"Jeff, I know neither one of us knows what a stable family looks like but I'm pretty sure it entails at least one adult being around during the day."

"But what if that adult was me? I've figured it out, look." He spreads the crumpled paper out on the bed between them. There's multiple crossings out, amendments and annotations but still her eyes widen. "By the time your maternity leave would run out it would be time for a new semester. The Dean has agreed that I can schedule my classes on the one day so long as I carry on with one night school class a week. That's only one day where we'd need to pay for childcare. Plus the occasional day before finals where I'd need to have office hours. You can go back to work and be amazing, I can stay at home and be a hands on dad. And who knows, maybe I'll be amazing at that. But you shouldn't have to feel like you have to compromise on some of your dreams to make others happen."

"You'd do that for me?"

"You mean, spend less time teaching and more time raising our kid to make the woman I love happier? Sure, I guess I can make that sacrifice," he tips her chin and winks, "It'll be hard though, watching you go to work every day while me and Jeff Jnr. stay at home and bake cookies."

"I don't know what I find least believable. You baking or that you think we'll be naming our child Jeff Jnr." she quips, but her eyes are bright and wide.

"But you'll think about it?" he feels a little thrill at the idea that this could happen. That he could be the kind of Dad he never had; the kind of boyfriend that no one ever expected.

When she nods, face bursting in to a grin, he pulls her closer and curls his arms around her.


	16. Quiver

He's never been in any sort of relationship for this long without having sex. Admittedly, they're not exactly in a relationship- merely suspended in something brimming with potential- but something has shifted inside of him and he can't bring himself to look at anyone else in that way. It's been ten weeks of missing her while she's in DC and two weeks of trying to get her alone so that they can talk since she's been back.

Her return coincides with Troy reappearing from whatever corner of the earth he's been hiding in, so their apartment is constantly crowded and bursting with excitement. While she squeezes his hand and hugs him close whenever he arrives, they keep a respectable distance from one another around the others. He suspects that neither one of them want to open themselves up to well-meaning questions before they've been able to hash out the things between them.

So, rather than calling he shoots her occasional texts- nondescript and full of nothing substantial- and thinks about how he missed his chance. Loving her comes easy, but telling her is becoming impossible.

Two weeks and three days after she landed back in Colorado he walks from the elevator in his building, arms full of groceries and free hand fishing in his pocket for keys, to find her sat outside his door.

"The Dean let me in," she says by way of explanation, although he hadn't asked. "Can we talk?"

He lets her in without hesitation, dropping his groceries and stooping to kiss her as soon as the door swings shut behind them. Her lips are warm after the chill of the mid-September air and she presses against his chest and opens her mouth to him with a sigh; the prospect of talking momentarily forgotten.

Eventually, he releases her and straightens, pressing a kiss on the top of her head.

"I missed you," he breathes after a pause, the unfamiliar feeling of vulnerability creeping over him. Silent, she wraps her arms around him and squeezes, her grip tight and unyielding.

It's not long until they're in bed together- fully clothed, to his mild surprise- and he's holding her close while she tells him all about her time in DC. Although he wants nothing more than to peel off her dress and feel how she fits underneath him on the bed there's something intoxicating about listening to her; it feels like a gift to listen and be heard in the face of all the selfish things he has done in the past.

And so when the mood shifts and he feels her start to stir next him- supple and sultry and skimming her fingertips across his chest- he doesn't dive right in like he usually would. He undresses her slowly, shaking with the effort of holding back, and learns the ways to make her moan before he's even loosened his belt buckle and thought for a second of anything other than her. Loving her might be easy and telling her might be hard, but he's finding that showing her might be the most natural thing in the world for him.


	17. Refractive

"Something's different."

As an opening gambit at conversation it wasn't totally unusual for Abed. He'd been regarding them carefully since they arrived at his place in LA; Annie had dominated most of the talking so far, updating him on everything from their flight to Britta's latest foray in to volunteer psychology. Jeff- who had napped uncomfortably on the flight and woken up groggy and aching- stuck close by her but largely had nothing to say. Week four without a drink had coincided unfortunately with his first ever flight and he felt jittery and cramped even in the wide LA streets. Abed's apartment, familiarly cluttered, was going some way to bring him down but he still felt slightly snappy and neurotic.

"Abed, what are you talking about?"

"Something's different, with you two." A trademark flick of a finger between them.

They looked sidelong at one another and for a moment Jeff wondered if they'd even _remembered_ to tell Abed that they were together. Perhaps sending him a joint Christmas card, complete with joint return address, hadn't been obvious enough.

"I know you're together, that was already obvious," he fixed his gaze on Annie, "I mean there's something else. I offered Jeff a drink and he said no. You two are being weird and clingy with each other. Annie doesn't want coffee." He clicked his fingers. "You're pregnant."

There was a silent moment where neither of them knew what to say, then Annie's hand flew to her stomach and Jeff's face split in to a grin so wide it hurt his cheeks.

"I'm gonna be a dad!"


	18. Starved

It felt natural for her to come back to his after her plane landed. They didn't discuss it, but she smiled at him when he took the turning that would bring them to his apartment and the set of her shoulders loosened. They didn't need words now- they had spoken nearly every day she'd been away- but he needed something and he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Yet when they stepped through his front door and realised that they were, for the first time since their kiss in the study room, completely alone and unoccupied by anything other than each other he was at a loss for what to do. Without a doubt he wanted to kiss her again, but he found that making the first move was absolutely daunting. It wasn't a welcome feeling, but his stomach fluttered whenever he looked at her.

Finally, she stretched up and he was treated to the glorious sight of her dress riding up her bare thighs and her chest thrust out towards him.

"I need a shower," she said suddenly; breaking a silence that wasn't awkward, but had been unexpected.

"Sure," he fetched her a towel and watched as she sauntered in to his bathroom, leaving him bereft and dazed and flopping back on to the couch. For a moment he considered joining her, but held back and fetched himself a scotch for fortification instead. Eventually, he heard the faucet shut off and he took his cue to peer in to the bathroom and clear his throat. At the sound she poked her head around the shower curtain.

"Towel, M'lady?" He winked, but felt his face go slack when she pulled back the curtain, still dripping wet, and smiled shyly at him. Without a word, she stepped out of the shower and walked in to the towel he had draped between his hands. She felt warm and small in his arms when he wrapped her up, her hair smelling of the coconut shampoo he had left out on the side of the bath, and he drank in every part of her as they stood quietly together in the misty bathroom.

After a delicious few seconds he lifted her slightly and carried her the short distance to his couch; fell down with her still clasped to his chest and laughed at her squeal. She was damp and warm in his lap; legs straddling his hips and arms draped around his shoulders. Their kisses were leisurely, lips as loose as their limbs, and he moaned in to her mouth.

"Jeff?" Annie pulled back slightly and regarded him thoughtfully. "Are you okay?"

He shook his head, gripped her hips tighter.

"I need you," he moaned, pressing his forehead against hers.

"Jeff, I've barely been back a few hours. Don't you think we should talk before sex is even on the table?" her voice was gentle rather than scolding, but he couldn't help but feel that he wasn't being clear enough.

"No, not just sex," he kissed her between words and pulled her flush against him. Her towel was loose and she kept one hand wrapped around the edge of it to keep it in place. It meant that they ended up with one arm trapped between them and the moment took on an awkward edge. He lacked the words, for once in his life, and when she pulled back he was left staring blankly back at her.

"Jeff?" her brow furrowed, "What is it?"

Her worried tone spurred him in to action. With her confused gaze watching him he reached up to undo the buttons on his shirt, shrugged it off his shoulders and looked at her pleadingly. She made a little gasping noise when his fingers moved to her towel and he paused, waited for her to give him a signal to continue. She nodded, and he pushed away the damp fabric; she shivered slightly when the cool air hit her skin but he couldn't take his eyes away. She didn't resist when he slipped his hands around her back and pulled her close to his chest.

She gasped again, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and clung to him. Jeff revelled in the feel of her, the warmth of their bare skin pressed together and her hot breathe against his neck. The sensation was brand new to him; this wanting to be so close to someone without the intention of moving things straight to the bedroom. He could, if he wanted to, the art of seduction had never been particularly hard. But there was something about being this close to her, after a whole summer of being alone, that was even better than taking her to bed. He realised that he might actually love her; definitely and absolutely and completely and without ulterior motive.

"You are everything I need," he whispered in to her hair.


	19. Knowledge

I apparently completely forgot to upload 'K' in the series! Whoops.

* * *

One of Annie's less adorable quirks is the cleaning rota she tapes to the inside of his kitchen cabinet and steadfastly insists that they stick to each week. Despite her size she intimidates even him when she stands, hands on hips, and taps her fingertips against whatever chore he's phoned in on that day.

He does, however, enjoy the attention she lavishes on him when he does a good job- for more than one reason he thinks he's having the best sex of his life when the sheets are freshly laundered. And the stickers she used to decorate the chart are pretty adorable.

His Sunday morning chore this week is cleaning the bathroom (his name admittedly features very infrequently in the weekly rota, Annie figures that she'll do a better job at ninety percent of the jobs in any case) and he faces it with the aplomb of someone filing their taxes. He spends a good twenty minutes sat on the floor, back pressed up against the bath, playing some new game Annie got him hooked on before straightening out the little bottles that line the mirror ledge. He keeps most things out on display now; she promised not to use the most expensive creams, although he sometimes dollops a fingertip-full on to the top of her nose when he's feeling playful and wants to hear her squeal.

The bin needs emptying after he's procrastinated for an acceptable amount of time and as he bends to pull out the bag a lilac box catches his eye. For a moment after bending to pick it up he feels a little light headed and his heart pounds in his chest.

"Annie?" He pushes the bathroom door open and steps out in to the main room of the apartment. Annie is in the kitchen area polishing the worktops and her normal composure falters when she spots the box in his hand. "What's this?"

She stares at him for a moment- neither one of them able to muster up their usual flare for something to say- until he sees her rally her resolve and step out to meet him in the living room. She takes the pregnancy text from him and places it down on the counter.

"It was negative. I was late and I thought I should check." Her voice is light, reassuring, but Jeff feels a cold little stab of pain in his gut.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugs.

"It was negative, I didn't want to worry you over nothing."

"It's not nothing," he whispers softly, registering the bitter tone that's crept in to his voice. She cocks her head at him and moves forward to wrap her arms around his chest. He pulls her close and drops a kiss on the top of her head.

"I'm sorry," she says finally, giving him a squeeze, "I didn't think it would bother you. If there's ever a next time I promise I'll tell you." She laughs against his chest as he sighs and holds her tighter. "Hopefully there isn't, though. It's not like we're ready to have that conversation."

"Maybe I am," he says, so quietly that he wonders whether she could possibly have heard him. He swallows hard when she pulls back to look at him, her eyes shining and his chest tight. "Maybe that's something I want… some day."

"Some day?" She's looking at him strangely as she speaks, a mix of confusion and amusement on her face. "You really think you might actually want a family at some point?"

"Honestly? The idea terrifies me. It's never even really been something I let myself think about because I always told myself that if I brought a kid in to this world I'd be sure to screw it up as bad as my dad did. I don't even _know_ what a good dad looks like, but with you I think I'd be willing to risk it. This is something I want- with you, Annie."

"I'd whip you in to shape." She grins as she stretches up on her tip-toes to kiss him; lips parted and hands splayed out against his back. That cold block in the pit of his stomach thaws slightly with every second she's in his arms and he pulls back, emboldened by the wide-eyed look of joy on her face.

"Just… Promise me that you'll let me be there, if you ever need to take another one," he murmurs before kissing her again, "Say this were to happen for us… I want to be there from day one. With you. I don't want to be just somebody you need to tell. Let me be there." He kisses her face at every pause; runs his lips along her cheeks, the tip of her nose, back to her mouth and she gasps before kissing him back.

It's not a decision, it's barely even a conversation, but Jeff's chest is flooded with the warmth of excitement and new adventure.


	20. Tone

Jeff was stood in the grocery store, silently debating between two brands of cereal he wasn't even going to eat, when a familiar voice pierced his consciousness.

"Winger! My main man!"

It was not a welcome interruption, but he plastered a grin on his face regardless and turned as Alan approached. There wasn't much time for a response before he found the man's arms around him, his bald head pressed against his chest; an occurrence that had become far too common for his liking in recent years.

"Hey, Alan… How's it going?"

"Oh things are great, man, just great. But look at you!" Jeff watched him shift and shuffle in his suit and wondered _just_ how much coke was running through the man's system, "You look great! Still hitting the gym I see!"

Jeff shrugged. He had left dinner in the oven, a very pregnant Annie in the bath and he was keen to not get dragged in to too deep a conversation with a man who had tried to ruin his life and had ended up inadvertently making it. Optimistically, he took a step backwards; only to have Alan move with him.

"So, hey, how's the college gang doing? You keep on touch with that hot little brunette thing? I'm telling you, man, she was in to m-"

"You could say that," Jeff interrupted, keeping his tone cool, "She's my wife now."

Alan's cocky expression faltered and there was a moment where Jeff could see the battle for a response waging behind his eyes. Alan never had been the brightest in the firm. Eventually, he rallied.

"Well, well, well Winger! Never thought I'd see the day that you'd settle down. I gotta say you picked a fine one there, although how did she manage to snare you? I get the appeal of hooking up with her but what gives, shotgun wedding?"

Patience evaporating, Jeff considered for a moment snapping and letting rip at him. But he was tired, and it was cold outside, and there would be a very needy Annie waiting for him on the sofa when he got home. And _God_ he loved cuddling a needy pregnant Annie.

"Our second kid is due in a couple of weeks," he said finally, a smile rising unbidden and unstoppable, "We've been married nearly a year. Fuck I'm happy, Al. I can't tell you how happy I am. I still can't thank you enough for screwing me over."

Alan's cocky grin wavered. It was then that Jeff realised the only things in his basket were a bottle of whisky and a pack of steak. That was him, once, and there was a time where he maybe would have missed it. But not now, not seeing it from the other side.

"I'll see you around, Alan. I've got a family to get home to."


	21. Whisper

I'm not sure I'm happy with this one. But depression as kicked my arse this past year so I've battle through the writers block to try and get it finished.

* * *

"You really want to wake Britta up?"

He's been stroking his hands further and further up her thighs as she curls up against him in the bed, their agreement that her apartment is purely for sleep creeping closer to abandonment. He knows her ticklish spots and he thankfully avoids them, they both know the hell Britta will unleash on them if she hears Annie squealing in the night, but she can tell by the look on his face that his intentions aren't exactly innocent.

"I do _not_ want that…" he trails off, raises an eyebrow, and hooks his thumb through the strap of her pyjama top, "But I do want this."

She tips her head back as his trails kisses down her neck, tightens her grip on his arms and sighs.

"Jeff.."

"Annie."

He grins up at her conspiratorily and she gives him a playful slap on the shoulder.

"I'm serious. Do you have any idea how difficult it was to get Britta to agree to you staying here? I made her a promise that she'd never have to hear us."

It hadn't been so much a promise as her begging Britta not to act unreasonable whenever Jeff knocked on the door. Or not to roll her eyes whenever she mentioned his name. Their pact was tenuous, and she's not looking forward to Britta's judgemental glare being trained on her in the morning.

"Okay," Jeff says finally, pulling the blanket up and over them both and cocooning them in fabric, "Then I just want to sleep here with you."


	22. Unwaning

Not sure how these chapters got so out of order... but that'll teach me to take my eye off the ball.

* * *

 _I can_ _'t wait to be with you._

Jeff replaced his phone in his pocket and shifted in his seat in the bar. He'd reread the text three times already, feeling a little jolt of happiness every time. Beside him, Frankie was detailing her final plans for the new semester with the Dean while Chang tried desperately to get involved. He'd largely managed to blank them out, but snippets of conversation- something about a college pet to replace Annie's Boobs- managed to seep through and he threw his head back and groaned. They'd been at the bar for the best part of two hours, Britta had insisted that they have one final get together before the start of school the next week, but the sense of excitement hadn't quite hit him yet. He was impatient for the night to be over, partly due to his own sobriety, and the fact that his route home was being delayed by the Dean's obsession with dalmatians.

"But Frankie, they're just so majestic! Think how one would look in my office!"

"Craig," Jeff snapped, slamming his palms on the table, "No one has to think about it because we've all seen your wardrobe. Now can we _please_ get going. I need to drop you off in the next hour otherwise-"

"Otherwise what? Where do you need to be at one in the morning?" Britta dropped another drink on the table and sank down in to the chair next to his, crossing her legs and raising an eyebrow at him. Frankie's phone beeped, a sound that often preceded her hurrying away to some appointment or another, and Jeff watched her frown as she looked at the screen.

"Annie's flight lands in two hours…" she said slowly. Jeff felt the sudden burning of all eyes on him. He'd expected some degree of disapproval, but the look Frankie in particular was giving him was more than he bargained for.

"Do you have a Google alert on all of our whereabouts?" The joke fell as flat as he thought it would, but it broke the looks of judgement all around him. Then, chaos as they all tried to speak at once.

"What are you thinking, Winger?"

"Oh, Jeffrey!"

"Are you actually out of your mind?"

Jeff slammed his palm down on the table, silencing them even as they continued to glare at him. He had known they would have something to say, which was why he had kept their late night conversations under wraps until he could see Annie in person.

"Why is it so hard for you to all accept that maybe I _actually_ like her. I want to be with her."

"We know that, Jeff," Frankie said, not unkindly, "But our concern isn't your feelings being real, it's whether you're the best thing for her."

"What?"

"Annie's… more vulnerable than you're letting yourself realise." Britta's voice took on that familiar confidence that came out whenever something psychological was being discussed. "You're an older guy giving her attention, of course she's responding."

"Britta, Annie's not a child. We've been friends for six years, do you really think I'd do anything to ever hurt her?"

"Not deliberately. But it's pretty obvious even to me that she's been in love with you for a long time. And as her friends, we're just worried that she's going to get hurt," replied Frankie, leaning forward and patting his hand gently. Jeff pulled it away harshly and glared out at the group.

"Yeah, well, not that's it any of your business how I feel about her but maybe the feeling's mutual," he began, but Britta grabbed his arm and cut him off.

"Wait, you love her?"

Jeff opened his mouth to respond but was silenced by Chang's hand on his shoulder.

"Guys, I think it's important that we respect Jeff's feelings. We shouldn't be the first ones to know how he feels about Annie, she should."

There was a long, pregnant pause as the group tried to adjust to Chang being the voice of reason for once that was broken by Frankie's exaggerated shrug.

"Well, Annie and Jeff are _adults_ , when all's said and done. So I guess we have no choice but to be supportive and be there if it all goes wrong."

"You guys all know that I'm still here, right?" Jeff patted himself dramatically for emphasis. "Is this is a new thing where you all insult me to my face rather than behind my back like normal people? Someone else can give the Dean a ride home, I'm out of here."

The group had the decency to look shame faced and he felt a little bit of his usual confidence rise to the surface. Pushing himself out of his seat, he grabbed his coat and gave them one final look.

"Look, I get that you guys are all worried. Probably about both of us. But those feelings that you think Annie feels… I need to… actually say the words to her first but you're right. I do feel the same. I want to be with her and I really think she wants to be with me too," he took a deep breath, "You all just need to trust me on this one. I won't let any of you down. Least of all Annie."

He didn't look back at he left the bar, simply took out his phone and typed a text as he walked out in to the carpark.

 _I'll be there when you land. Can't wait to kiss you. Jeff x_


	23. Venery

Girls' night becomes a more frequent reality now that the only women in their group can be out beyond bedtime. Britta's bar is the obvious choice, although more often than not it becomes an excuse for her to get drunk on a budget while Annie and Frankie flip a coin for the role of designated driver. Tonight it's Annie's turn and although she enjoys having the power to decide when they leave in theory; in reality it's proving harder than usual to shift Britta from her stool after closing.

"Come on, Britta! It's two in the morning!"

Britta waves her off with a flick of her hand and pours herself another shot.

"What's the rush? You don't have class in the morning."

"Yeah, but…" Annie flashes her her most pleading gaze, "I promised Jeff I'd stay at his tonight and there's no way he's waited up."

"Oooo! Big night planned?"

"No!" Annie blushes, "No, I'd just like to get to get to sleep at some point."

"I'd love to be a fly on the wall when you two are having sex!" Britta cackles loudly. Frankie slowly reaches forward and pulls her drink further away while Annie's face flushes furiously.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh come on! Jeff's so emotionally closed off during sex that you might as well sleep with his half formed clone and you-"

"What about me?" Annie says coldly.

"You're so repressed sexually that it's a wonder he's seen you naked," Britta's voice is amused rather unkind, and Annie bites down her response, "I'm sorry Annie but I just can't see you two having mind blowing sex. Your lack of experience is probably working in his favour."

Annie feels her cheeks flushing furiously and folds her arms, glares out at the far wall until Frankie pats her shoulder and jerks her head towards the door.

"You go, I'll share a cab with her when she's finished," she says softly and, not for the first time, Annie thinks that Frankie might be her biggest supporter. She mouths a thank you, grabs her jacket and heads out in to the parking lot.

When she gets back to his apartment- although she spends enough time here to probably consider it home- the lights are off except for a thin line under his bedroom door. She knocks before entering, feeling more than a little silly, and peeks her head round the door. He's lying across the bed asleep, arm stretched over to her side of the mattress and curled around her pillow. It's cute, but she thinks there's no way of joining him without waking him up as she slips out of her clothes and carefully places the book that's fallen from his open hand on to the nightstand. The lamp next to the bed is still on, although he has left it on a dim setting, and it casts shadows on his face. There's a slight furrow on his brow that she often notices when she watches him sleep and when she curls up on the bed next to him she presses her lips gently to his forehead.

He opens his eyes groggily and beams at her.

"You're home." He's barely awake, but his arm curls tight around her shoulders. When she presses up close to kiss him he brings his free hand up to her hair and strokes absently, his mouth moving against hers like they have all the time in the world.

She loves this. When they're laying down together she can run her toes down his calves, At home she sleeps in comfy old floral pyjamas, relics from the days where she could never be quite sure what antics Abed and Troy would get up to in the middle in the night. But she's learnt to love the feel of his bare skin against hers; the way his arms hold her firm throughout the night, his leg curled carefully over hers. Britta was right about one thing. Sexually repressed Annie would have hated this feeling; and the Jeff she first met would have never been here in the first place. But she's not that girl any more, and he's not that guy.

He's nuzzling across her cheek, hand still playing with her hair, and she feels a little jolt of desire rush through her when his lips find the sensitive skin under her jaw. Even half asleep he knows how to push her buttons and she arches in to him, presses her palms against his firm chest and pushes back her chin to welcome his kisses along her neck.

"Missed you," he breathes against her skin and she laughs softly. Even though it's only been a couple of days- he's been busy with office hours and she's been commuting across town to her two-day work experience placement- she's missed him too.

"Missed you more."

He pulls back and gives her his dopiest, sleepy grin. That's another thing she loves- maybe more than the way he runs his fingertips down her thighs when he rolls her on to her back- that she's the only person that gets to see him this vulnerable. No ego mask, no flexing, no quick quips to hide what he really thinks. He murmurs how much he loves her late at night, and she doesn't mind that they stick to acting professional at Greendale for the sake of the group. If his usual speeches can convince them all to follow whatever madcap scheme he's cooked up, the things he says to her behind closed doors has her melting under his palms.

"You make me happy," she says, cupping his cheeks, "You know that, right?"

That grin again.

"Good," he growls, suddenly more awake and stretching his hands around her bare waist, "I always want to make you happy, Annie."


	24. Xerophyte

I've been dreading finding a word for X for this whole story. Xerophyte means 'a plant which requires very little water' so I hope I've kept within the spirit of that!

* * *

"Want a drink?"

Annie's voice from the kitchen pulled him from his thoughts and he nodded numbly. There was the soft sounds of her moving about; opening the freezer door to get ice, the clink as she filled the glass and the glug of scotch being poured. Then, she fell back on the sofa and handed him his drink, clutching her own glass of water in her hand.

"So," he began, "We should probably talk about this, right?"

The glass sat heavy in his hands and he leant forward to deposit it unceremoniously on the coffee table in front of him. She watched him carefully, fixing him with those big blue eyes that still made something inside him flutter, and folded her legs underneath herself. The effect made her seem smaller, closed off from him and he hated it. He wanted to reach out, cup a hand behind her knee and draw her in to his lap so he could hold her, feel her heart beating under his palms and ease out her thoughts with a kiss. Instead, he settled for mirroring her position on the couch, no mean feat at his height, and brushed her calf gently with his bare toes. A soft smile was his reward and then she was moving towards him, turning to press her back against his chest and pull his arms tight around her.

"What are you thinking?" she said softly, grip tightening on his wrists. Usually, he would reply with carefully measured words. Say everything while ensuring that everyone hears nothing. But instead he slipped his hands down to spread his palms across her abdomen, felt her gasp and dropped a kiss on the crown of her head.

"I imagine I'll be a bit grumpy for a few days…" he whispered finally, and felt her pull away from him. He relinquished, and she twisted round between his legs to look at him.

"You will?"

"Yeah, if we're giving my caffeine _and_ I'm giving up scotch…"

There's a fleeting moment of confusion on her face before she flashed him a knowing grin and leant forward to kiss him.

"Jeff.. you don't have to-"

"Annie, my dad gave up on being a father as soon as things got tough, and my Mom was always there for me. I don't want to be a Dad who phones it in right from the start while you do all the work. I want to be there, for every scan and every class and every decision and it still won't be enough compared to what you're about to do. So at least let me be there for the sacrifices too."

Uncharacteristically lost for words, Annie watched him as he pushed himself up from the couch and padded to the kitchen sink. The ice clanged metal as he dumped the contents of his glass against the steel bowl to pour himself some water and raised it to his lips. Sobriety never tasted so good.


	25. Young

This was actually the first fic I wrote in this alphabet series then I first started it! Because I'm a sucker for a throwaway line and the looks Jeff gave Annie in the polygraph episode. It's a pretty micro-fic, but I'm pleased with it.

* * *

He's the oldest person in the vicinity that doesn't have a child clinging to their leg but somehow it doesn't matter when he's got Annie pulling him down the path. Somehow, she's convinced him to don some ridiculous head wear in the entry line and right now he can't stop thinking about how difficult it's going to be to sort his hair out later. Somewhere, Abed is milling around the crowds- having insisted on driving them here himself- and Jeff is half expecting to be accosted by security any moment. It's distracting him from the very real pleasure of Annie's warm hand in his, the way she beams up at him at every opportunity.

"I still can't believe that you agreed to this," she says happily as he brings his face down to receive the kisses she peppers his cheek with. Her joy is infectious

"My first time leaving Colorado and somehow you convince me to go to Disneyland," he teases as she pulls back and she rolls her eyes.

"Convince you? You bought the tickets the second we booked our LA flights!"

"Yeah… well," he threads his fingers back through hers and squeezes her hands tight, "A little birdie told me that this was one of your fantasies."


	26. Zest

Jeff has never considered himself to be particularly enthusiastic. About anything. He puts more effort in to nonchalance than his syllabus, classes and socialising combined. He'd pick sarcasm over baring his soul, let people scratch at the surface forever rather than admit that maybe, just maybe, there might be something a little deeper to him. He's resigned himself to superficial relationships, to nights that lead nowhere, to sex that means nothing. To never, ever, proving to himself that he might have made a better father than his own.

But there's something about _The Annie of it all._

She doesn't judge his indifference as bitterness, doesn't ever stop trying to make him the best he can be. She's all coloured throws and late night talks and planning and early mornings and self-improvement that shows nothing in the mirror or on the scale.

It would be infuriating if it weren't so endearing.

She teases laughter out of him without sarcasm, coaxes worries out of him without judgement, kisses with all the zest of someone with their whole life ahead of her instead of having her best moments in the past. Years ago, he would have been so sure that his best days were in a courtroom, or a bar or an office, when money wasn't an issue and he didn't have to worry about things like family or friends or having people to lose. She shows him how wrong he was every time she greets him, kisses him, tucks her compact body in to his lap to hold him and ask how his day has been. Her enthusiasm is infectious, and more and more he's finding daily little things to enjoy about the life, titbits to notice and relay to her in the evening.

Each time he thinks that _this is it._ This is the moment to top all moments. And then she surprises him in the morning by still being there, still challenging and helping and pushing him. Still striving and loving and caring.

Still, he's pretty sure that this moment- stood at the front of a room and watching her float down the aisle, with a small hand pressed in to his palm and a matching mini-waistcoat that's making him feel things he never thought he'd feel- _this_ moment is the happiest he will ever be.

* * *

And I'm officially finished! Thanks for reading!


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